


Nightmares

by Sleepy_Fox



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Drabble
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-11
Updated: 2018-09-11
Packaged: 2019-07-11 01:14:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15961547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sleepy_Fox/pseuds/Sleepy_Fox
Summary: An England drabble written on a stormy night after waking up from my own nightmares. Unfinished and likely to stay that way.





	Nightmares

He woke with a start, gasping for breath with sweat running into his eyes. He’d had the nightmare again.  
Bloody rain.  
Bloody war  
Bloody damn well insolent, proud, cruel Alfred.

He crawled out from under the thick eiderdown, his shirt sticking to his skin; feeling clammy and gross from the night-sweats. On his way to the bathroom, he caught sight of his reflection in the mirror and abruptly switched courses. A shower could wait. Right now he needed tea.

The nightmare normally occurred during storms. It would interrupt whatever dream he was having and morph it into muddy puddles and black skies and a bayonet blade poised above his heart. Alfred was always there, in those dreams, his ice-blue eyes glittering in triumph as he knocked the rifle from the Englishman’s hand and pushed him back into the mud.

_‘You used to be so strong…’_

The screeching kettle brought Arthur back to the present and he started to relax with the simple yet familiar routine of making tea.  
‘Hot water, tea, lemon, milk and sugar. One for each person and one for the pot. Let steep for three to five minutes –‘  
Tea couldn’t quiet the raging storm outside however, and he found his hands were shaking too badly to carry the mug far without spilling.  
The old house groaned while rain lashed the windows. He was too on edge to go back to sleep, so he sat and watched the clouds rolling overhead. A sudden creak or groan from the old house would make him jump, then warily settle back into his chair. Each flash of lightning, each growl of thunder seemed to bring back memories he’d rather have left undisturbed.

_‘You’re still a child, Alfred, I won’t let you leave.’_  
_‘I hate you!’_

Flash, crash

_“You don’t mean that Alfred – come back!”_

Flash crash

_“HOW DARE YOU DISOBEY A DIRECT ORDER FROM ME, YOU INSOLENT LITTLE WHELP?!”_


End file.
